It Had to Be You

seventeen

SILENCE hovered in the air, mixing with the faint sweat smell in his soccer cleats under my feet. A faint country song played in the background and the heat was cranked on full blast, drying out my contact lenses.

Adrian tapped the steering wheel. "Are you okay?"

"Me?" I asked in surprise. "After everything that happened tonight, I should be the one asking you that."

"How can you just take what they say about your weight?"

My eyes widened. That was the last thing I thought he would bring up over our night together. I've been sitting on the edge of my seat, waiting for him to call me out for snooping through his things and finding that damned kindergarten friendship bracelet.

"It's not anything new." I said slowly, choosing my words carefully. "I've been dealing with those comments my whole life."

"And you don't fight back?"

"Never gets me anywhere."

He went quiet for a moment. "You don't believe them, do you?"

My silence was enough of an answer.

Strangers calling me out for my weight, and even relatives that I haven't seen for years commenting on my figure didn't send me over the edge. And usually, my obnoxious curly hair ruled out my weight for the thing I hated the most about my body.

But with my mom's snide comments, asking for measurements again because she screwed up and made the dress so I couldn't fit into it, and telling me to cut back on the gummies, it started to crumble down my walls.

I was only a few pounds over the average weight for my height, and she made it out to seem like I was one hundred pounds over.

Adrian parked his truck at the end of my driveway.

"Better than taking the subway?" He asked, glancing over at me.

"Yes."

My hand gripped the door handle, ready to bid him goodnight and to thank him for the ride when his hand rested on my shoulder. I looked over my shoulder.

"I've been meaning to ask you," a teasing smile slipped onto his lips, "what's your answer to Kylie's question?"

It took a few seconds to dig through every one of my lines, song lyrics, and movie quotes to pull out what he was referencing. My eyes widened and my cheeks started to heat up.

I opened my mouth, ready to spout out some half-assed lie when another voice called out to us.

"Get off my property before I call the cops!" Mom stood on our front porch, one hand securely holding her silk robe in place while the other held a flute of champagne. "Norah. Get out of that vehicle."

"Oh my gosh," I shook my head, dragging my gaze back to him, "she acts like you're going to murder me."

"You better go." He told me. "I'm not going to jail because I dropped you off."

"You wouldn't go to jail." I said. "You'd be escorted from our property, but not jail."

I opened the door, sliding down from my seat when mom yelled out at Adrian again to get off our property. My feet weren't on the ground before she turned into the house, calling out my dad's name.

I whipped back around, grabbing my purse as he handed it to me. "You need to go."

I bid him goodbye and shut the door, racing down our pathway as his truck rattled off. Dad had just stepped outside, clad in nothing but his boxer shorts. His eyes were frantic as they tried to latch onto mom's, but her eyes were on me.